A Gift Beyond Death
by Jennifer Campbell
Summary: Tessa copes with the death of a friend, with the help of Doctor Helm.


A Gift Beyond Death  
by Jennifer Campbell  
  
The characters of Tessa, Marta and Dr. Helm don't belong  
to me. This story is all in good fun with no harm intended.  
I make no money off this, unfortunately.  
  
This was written for Queen of Swords Weekly Challenge No.  
31, for the Queen of Swords fanfic mailing group. It's  
quick work, seeing as the challenge was posted only today,  
but I was inspired. I paraphrased the quote a bit but kept  
its essence.  
  
#  
  
In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies,  
but the silence of our Friends.  
-- Martin Luther King Jr.  
  
Tessa watched, mesmerized, as the first shovel-full of  
dirt hit the coffin. Tiny reddish-brown grains skittered  
across the unadorned wood, a symbol of the fertile earth  
taking back one of its beloved daughters. A cool ocean wind  
kicked up dust and whipped Tessa's hair into her face, but  
she paid it no mind, her attention riveted to rhythm of  
dirt hitting wood -- the rhythm of death.  
  
Her tears dripped unheeded into the grave and soaked into  
the soil. She threw in a bundle of roses, fresh-cut from  
her own garden, and a single Tarot card. The High  
Priestess, mother and spirit. An appropriate last honor for  
the woman who had guided her since childhood.  
  
_I'm finished, Marta. No one else dies because of my  
actions, not ever again._  
  
The two grave diggers, Tessa's strongest rancheros, piled  
ever more dirt into the hole. If only, Tessa thought, they  
could bury her memories, as well. So much blood and  
violence, and now, Marta was dead. Tessa had always  
believed she herself would be the first to join her father  
on the barren hilltop, overlooking the hacienda.  
  
_Oh, Marta, I'm so sorry I failed you._  
  
A broad, comforting hand squeezed her shoulder from  
behind, then caressed down her arm, to her hand, where  
fingers intertwined with her own. Helm's other arm gently  
circled her waist, and Tessa leaned back against him. She  
needed his strength right now, to make it through.  
  
"She was an amazing woman," he said quietly. "In all my  
years of war I never saw so selfless an act. She must have  
loved you very much."  
  
Tessa tried to respond but choked on the words. She closed  
her eyes against the tears, but it didn't help. Behind her  
lids, she could still see that gut-wrenching moment, as  
Marta had hurled herself between the Queen and Grisham's  
gun. One shot. One desperate act, and Marta had fallen,  
blood pooling around her head and seeping into the dusty  
street.  
  
Tessa had tried to run to her, but Helm had pulled her  
away. "Go! You cannot let her sacrifice be in vain. I'll  
stay with her, I promise."  
  
So she had escaped, and Montoya had had Grisham hauled off  
to jail for murder. _I hope he rots there,_ she thought  
fiercely. _I hope Montoya hangs him like the dog he is._  
  
_Oh, Marta, my friend, my sister, you deserved so much  
better. You deserved the love of a good man, and children  
to call you Mother, and all you got was me._  
  
None of this felt real. Standing beside the grave, Tessa  
felt disconnected, not quite part of her body, as though  
she would float away if not for Helm's anchoring embrace.  
First Father, then Marta. Would her beloved Robert be next?  
Would he sacrifice himself for her bloody destiny?  
  
The grave was half-full when she finally disengaged  
herself from Helm's arms, but she couldn't bring herself to  
look away from the diggers' work. It would be  
disrespectful, to leave before they were finished.  
  
She said quietly, knowing only Helm would hear the words,  
"I can't do this anymore. I won't stand over the grave of  
another loved one. I don't have the strength for it. I'm  
going back to Spain."  
  
His voice was low in her ear. "And give up on your  
destiny? Will you abandon all your people to Montoya's  
tyranny?"  
  
She laughed despite herself. "They're not _my_ people."  
  
"You are their Queen, and they need you." A pause, and  
then, "_I_ need you."  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"How could you ever doubt it?"  
  
At that, she gathered the courage to face him. Dark  
circles ringed his eyes, bloodshot from crying, and his  
hair flew askew in the wind. She wondered whether he had  
been sleeping in his clothes again, as rumpled as they  
were. Then again, she wondered if he had slept at all,  
since that horrific scene two days ago. She certainly  
hadn't.  
  
She ran her fingertips along his cheek. "I don't want you  
to get hurt. You've been almost killed because of me so  
many times. Eventually, luck will run out."  
  
"When it's time to die, no person can escape their fate."  
  
"That sounds strange, coming from a doctor."  
  
"Tessa, if you give up now, then Marta's sacrifice really  
will have been wasted. She died so you could live and  
continue your work here, not in Spain."  
  
The truth of those words resonated inside her. She looked  
away, out toward the ocean and, on the other side of it, a  
land where she could forget. There, no one knew of her  
other life and no one expected anything more of her than  
for her to simply be Tessa Alvarado. Death couldn't  
possibly follow her there, across such a vast body of water.  
  
A small voice countered, _It followed Doctor Helm._ She  
tried to banish the thought but couldn't.  
  
"It's funny," she said, "that after everything Montoya and  
Grisham have done to capture or kill me, that something  
else entirely should test my resolve. After all that's  
happened, in the end, I will remember not the words of my  
enemies but the silence of a friend."  
  
"But Marta isn't silenced," Helm said. "If there is one  
thing I've learned here, it's that the spirit lives on, and  
her's will forever be with you, as a guide and friend.  
Surely you know that."  
  
She sighed heavily, resigned. "I can't leave Santa Helena,  
can I?"  
  
"You already know the answer to that."  
  
Behind them, one of the diggers said politely, "Senorita?  
We are finished."  
  
She turned to see a fresh mound of dirt rising up beside  
her father's grave. _My two guardians._ She thanked her  
rancheros, and after they had headed back down the hill,  
she took a deep breath and finished laying her friend to  
rest. She lifted a white, wooden cross in both hands and,  
at the head of the grave, rammed it into the ground.  
  
With Helm looking on, she knelt by the cross to pray. "I --  
I really don't know what to say to you that I haven't  
already said a thousand times over these past two days. I  
miss you, Marta. Whatever will I do without you to look out  
for me? You've set me back on my path so many times. You've  
cared for me, given me your wisdom and support. But for all  
of that, I couldn't protect you. I just wish --" She choked  
up again. "I wish I could have taken that bullet instead of  
you. But I'm still here, and I'll do what you would have  
wanted. The Queen will ride again, and fight until there is  
justice in this land."  
  
"Amen," Helm said, granting her a small smile.  
  
He offered his hand as she rose to her feet. Dust from the  
grave coated her black dress, but she deliberately didn't  
wipe it off. She squeezed Helm's hand, then kissed him  
lightly on the lips.  
  
"Be careful, my love," she murmured. "I couldn't stand to  
lose you, as well. You're all I have left here."  
  
"You take care, too, my Queen."  
  
"I always do."  
  
As they walked back to the hacienda, hand in hand, a  
feeling of peace finally settled in Tessa's heart. She  
could almost sense Marta's spirit by her side, begging her  
to shed no more tears, to waste no more energy grieving  
over the unchangeable.  
  
In her mind, Marta's voice rang out. _Look to the future  
now, to all those people who need your help and protection.  
You never failed me, and always remember, my Tessa, I am so  
proud of you._  
  
the end 


End file.
